


hits me like a bullet from a golden gun

by cinderellou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Harry, Bottom Louis, Infidelity, Little bit of fluff here and there, M/M, i guess, idk how to tag, side Ziam, there'll be smut at some point, they share that really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:33:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderellou/pseuds/cinderellou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s been a long time coming. It’s been a long time coming, and all Louis is thinking about is how stupid he was to think he could stop it. All he can focus on is how he fucked up, how he let himself fuck up so badly. He’s on his bruised knees cradling a bruised past to his chest, crumbling as his life shatters around him. There’s a hole in his heart, in his eyes, and in his life - and it’s shaped like him. </p>
<p>or the one where Harry gets a promotion and leaves Louis behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_November._

 

It’s been a long time coming. It’s been a long time coming, and all Louis is thinking about is how stupid he was to think he could stop it. All he can focus on is how he fucked up, how he let himself fuck up so badly. He’s on his bruised knees cradling a bruised past to his chest, crumbling as his life shatters around him. There’s a hole in his heart, in his eyes, and in his life - and it’s shaped like _him_.

 

~

 

_November, one year ago._

 

The sun is streaming through the window, bathing them both in warm, soft light. It’s gentle brightness sinks into their skin, warming their hearts and their eyes. Hands stroke blindly across skin, sharing breath and sharing smiles. Louis has never been more content, which is a lie because every second spent with Harry is the most content he ever is.

“Breakfast?” Harry presses the question into the dainty cut of Louis’ collarbones, fingertips tracing the script across his chest.

“Not yet, comfy,” Louis replies, lips barely moving around the words. His fingers are laced through Harry’s hair, hearts and legs tangled together.

“Me too, but ‘m hungry.”

Louis sighs, a happy outlet of air, and tugs gently at Harry’s curls. Harry lifts his head, eyes hooded and smile dopey. He nudges closer, and his lips find their way between Louis’ and that’s all it takes for Louis to fall again. He’s been feeling it for weeks, maybe even months, maybe even since the first day they met.

Eventually, they separate quietly and softly, and Louis feels like that should symbolise something bigger but he doesn’t want to think about anything outside of the little bubble he and Harry have blown around themselves. So his lips lift into a smile to match Harry’s, and he kicks back the covers, letting Harry pull him gently from the bed.

Louis sits on the bench and watches while Harry flitters around the kitchen. Under the harsher light of the fluorescents, he can make out dark shadows under Harry’s eyes, a nervous twitch to the way he’s gnawing at his lip.

And really, Louis should have known better.

“Haz, what’s wrong?” he asks into the quiet hum of his kitchen.

Harry pauses, lifting his eyes from the stove top to the counter top where Louis sits. His eyebrow is raised in question. “Hmm?”

“What is it?” Louis slides off from the counter and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist. He presses his cheek to his shoulder blade, feels the muscles relax and his heart steady.

“Oh, no, it’s uh- no, it’s nothing.”

“It’s definitely something.”

“Um, let’s get breakfast sorted first, yeah? And go back to bed, I’ll let you know soon.” He’s gone back to stirring the eggs, the movement jolting Louis, but the jolt is nothing compared to the reaction his body has to the tense words spoken by Harry. His body tightens, arms locking briefly before they retract from Harry’s bare skin. His sock covered feet step away, carrying him to the dining table to sit and wait anxiously for Harry to tell him this news.

Harry watches, eyes flickering between his hands, the food, and Louis. His lips are bitten red, and not the kind of bitten red that stirs warmth within Louis’ belly. They’re the kind of bitten red that confirms Louis’ fears.

After a silent breakfast, though it’s almost like every other breakfast they eat together; Harry nicks some of Louis’ eggs, and in return Louis steals a strip of bacon. It’s painfully domestic.

“Okay, H, no shit. No more stalling. What is this grand news you’ve been withholding,” Louis demands, tone light but eyes heavy.

Harry hesitates, mumbles under his breath. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

“And I wouldn’t be calling it anything if you’d just tell me,” Louis remarks, eyebrows arched prettily.

“Okay, well, uh, you know how earlier in the year I mentioned that my name had been thrown around with promotion in the same sentence?” Harry says, words strung together and breath tight.

Louis nods slowly, recalling the dinner over which Harry had mentioned that there was an extremely small chance of him getting a promotion. “Yes.”

“Yeah, well. I got it.”

It takes approximately 7.8 seconds for the words to connect with Louis, and when they do, they slither through his walls and settle deep in his bones.

“Harry, that’s incredible! Why didn’t you tell me straight away?” He steps forward and wraps Harry into a warm, happy, _loving_ embrace.

Harry doesn’t hug back.

Louis loosens his arms, confusion bubbling through his veins and takes a step back.

“Remember _where_ the promotion would take me?” Harry asks, voice drawn tight.

“Um, to a higher, more notable position? To financial security? To an office on the next level of your buil-”

“To Seattle, Louis,” Harry cuts him off, finally meeting his eyes.

But his green eyes don’t surround Louis in the fieriness they usually do, instead they bring unsettled seas and stormy clouds.

“It’ll take me to Seattle.”

And that, well. That’s when Louis’ world started to self-destruct.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I forgot to mention when I posted the prologue, and you've probably noticed now, but there's going to be time jumps, it'll always be written and stuff but just keep an eye out for those :) :)

_Next year, January._

The promotion is still in the air, floating amongst eviction notices and unpaid bills.

Louis is on the ground. And fuck, he’s aware of it.

Harry has yet to take the promotion, claiming he wants to finalise the specifications of it before he came to a decision.

In other words, he’s going to take it. He’s going to take the promotion and take off, turn his back on Louis and the life they’d built together.

The promotion stands for another thirteen days, and then Harry has to make his decision. If (when) he accepts, he has thirteen weeks until the new office was ready, and then he will be gone. If he rejects it, he will have the same low income, the same flat, the same life, but he will be with Louis.

The latter was Louis’ preference, though he never voices this to Harry.

He doesn’t want Harry to go, obviously. But he doesn’t want to be the reason Harry says no, because as much as it pains him to admit it, this promotion is fucking amazing. A VP at the new office in Seattle, a prepaid penthouse, a business car, a substantial rise in income. It’s amazing, it’s everything Harry has been waiting for since the moment he set foot out of university.

It’s undeniable that since mention of the promotion, a bit of a damper has landed on their relationship. Louis stops sleeping at Harry’s six nights a week, and Harry stops coming to Louis’ early in the morning to make breakfast. They stop going out, and they stop having sex.

They stop being LouisandHarry, and start being Louis and Harry.

Louis is not a fan of the new twist on their relationship, but the way he sees it, is that if he can create enough space between he and Harry, then when Harry finally leaves, it won’t hurt. But deep down, beneath all of the selfishness and the selflessness and the brewing anger, Louis knows that nothing will prepare him for when Harry leaves. Nothing.

 

~

 

_Still January._

“Babe, did you pick up his gift?” Harry calls out, swearing as he struggles to pull on his boots.

“Yeah, H. Of course. It’s in the car,” Louis answers, buttoning his shirt and walking down the hallway. He stops when he sees Harry, who had gotten his boots on and was attempting to stuff his shirt into his pants. Louis steps forward and bat his hands out of the way, nimbly tucking his fingers into Harry’s trousers and securing his crisp, white dress shirt.

He glances up through his lashes and catches Harry staring at the cut of his cheekbones, eyes soft and lips softer.These moments were rare, rare since their relationship had been given an expiration date. Harry’s hand lifts slowly and brushes Louis’ hair back from his forehead, before ducking to press his plush lips to the skin there.

“Okay, let’s go, yeah? We’re already late,” Louis mumbles, throwing a small smile at Harry before grabbing his things from the table by the door, shoving them deep into his pockets.

“I’ll drive?” Harry asks as they lock the door to Louis’ flat and beginning down the hallway.

“No, I’ll drive. You can drink,” Louis argues, knowing that Harry wants to be partying for his best mate’s birthday. “You have fun. I’ll be the boring one tonight.”

Harry responds with a genuine grin and lips to Louis’ nose. “Thanks, Lou. I’ll pay you back later,” he adds with a wink.

Louis laughs and digs his elbow into his boyfriend’s side. And it was moments like this when he almost forgot that Harry would be gone soon.

 

 

They meet the other boys at a nightclub, in the VIP section because Liam’s position in the health and fitness industry allows him luxuries. His boyfriend, Zayn, is plastered to his side with a drink plastered to his hand. They envelop Louis and Harry in sweaty, beer-scented embraces, smiles woozy and eyes happy. Liam’s smile grows bigger when they wish him a happy belated birthday, and present him with his terribly wrapped gift. Another round of warm hugs is exchanged before they make their way to the booth.

“Bout time you fuckers showed up!”

Louis lets out a peal of laughter and lifts his middle finger to Niall. “Oh, fuck off, you’ve been here all day, Nialler.”

“Only to earn that kid a few free drinks,” Niall defends with a smile, gesturing at Liam. “Was my present for him, coz boss says I have to stop giving free drinks to my friends so I just work them off.”

“Always the smartest one,” Harry chimes in, reaching out to shake Niall’s hand.

Louis and Harry slide into the booth, greeting the other familiar faces sitting around the table. Louis has Niall leaning into him on his right, and Harry leaning away from him to the left, but Liam and Zayn don’t notice the distance from their seats opposite.

“So, you two ready for a place together yet?” Zayn asks, after the waiter had set down a round of pints, courtesy of Harry.

Louis’ throat dries up, so he glances to Harry for an answer.

Harry’s eyes widen before he answers. “Uh, yeah, um, I’m not too sure I could handle Lou’s messiness just yet.”

It earns him a round of laughter, but isn’t successful in changing the subject to Louis’ bad habits, as he’d intended.

“But you practically live together now! Besides, it’d definitely save you both so much money!” Liam replies, resting his chin on hand and scrutinizing Harry with fuzzy eyes.

Harry digs his knuckle into Louis’ thigh, _your turn_. “Well, it’s uh, just easier for now. Harry’s place is close to campus, and the office. My place is close to the tube and the coffee house. It’d be hard to find a single place that had easy access to both of our work places, and the tube, and campus,” Louis says quickly, waffling and talking shit because they haven’t told anyone else about the promotion.

“Wait!” Niall cuts in, tuning into their conversation, “Babs mentioned a promotion. Haz, that’s right, yeah?”

The four of them raise their eyebrows, Zayn and Liam in surprise and curiosity, and Harry and Louis in pure fear.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, there’s been mention of a promotion, and I’ve been offered it-”

“Well that’s more than a mention, mate. That’s fucking awesome!” Liam cheers, leaning across the table to ruffle Harry’s curls.

“Yeah, Harry, congratulations, man,” Zayn adds, beaming.

“You’re taking it, right?” Niall asks.

Louis looks to Harry, chest tightening. “He hasn’t decided yet. Have you, _babe_?”

Harry fish-mouths. “Er, well, we’re still working out the specifics before I make any decisions.”

“Tell them where it is, H,” Louis pushes, voice sharp.

“Seattle. It’s in Seattle,” Harry says without hesitation, hard eyes holding Louis’.

“Oh, fuck,” Zayn breathes, reclining back from the table to press his back against the cushion of the booth.

“Yeah, so it’s still undecided,” Harry mutters, lifting his glass to his lips and drinking a large gulp.

Louis watches, watches the alcohol slide down his boyfriend’s throat, and watches as Harry slips through his grasp.

 

 

They sit around talking, Niall successfully lightening the mood by sharing awkward sex encounters. Louis can feel Zayn’s dark eyes on him, watching each forced lift of his lips and each deep gulp of his drinks. People filter in and out of the booth, but the five boys stay in their seats, in each others’ company, until their throats are parched due to lack of drinks.

“Well, fuck boys, who’s turn is it to get the next round?” Louis asks, cutting off one of Liam’s tales of a client who hadn’t heard of weight lifting.

“I’ll get it,” Zayn volunteers, pressing his lips to Liam’s cheek before sliding out of the booth. “Lou, come help me carry them?”

Louis nods, waits for Harry to slip out of the booth and out of his way, because Louis is not willing to climb over Harry and potentially land in his lap. Not after months of no physical contact.

Zayn orders the drinks while Louis stands silent by his side. When the bar tender lines all drinks up on the bar and hands Zayn his change, Zayn doesn’t move to go back to their section. Instead, he drags out a stool and sits down, gesturing for Louis to do the same.

“Okay, Louis, tell me.”

“Tell you what, exactly?” Louis avoids the question, reaching for a pint and letting half of the bitter liquid slide down his throat before looking at Zayn.

“All of it.”

“But which part? The part where I was finally ready for more, but he’s going the opposite way? The part where his job can offer him more than I could ever give? The part where he’s been given this incredible opportunity but I don’t want him to take it? The part where aforementioned opportunity takes him to the other side of the fucking world? The part where he’ll end up leaving me? Or the part where the love of my entire fucking life is literally drifting away and there is _nothing_ I can do?” He’s choked up, throat thickening and eyes watering, by the end of his spiel.

Zayn watches in contemplative silence as Louis finishes the rest of his pint and scrubs his tiny fists against his traitorous eyes.

“Oh, Lou. Fuck, okay,” Zayn breathes out finally, eyes softening and arms reaching out to his best mate.

Louis falls into his embrace, sticky face pressed into Zayn’s soft skin. “And I wasn’t supposed to fucking drink tonight, Z. Just another excuse for him to leave. I can’t control myself. It’s like I’m walking around with my eyes closed, because I’m powerless, I just can’t do anything to help him.”

Louis knows they’re visible from the booth, knows Harry’s eyes probably haven’t looked anywhere other than at Louis. So he knows that in any second, Harry will walk over in concern and offer to take Louis home, offer to drive, offer to stay with him.

But then, things have changed.

Louis pulls back gently from Zayn, and denies his instinct to check over his should to see if Harry has been watching. Zayn’s eyes wilt at the edges, like he knows what Louis is thinking. Which, yeah, thirteen years of friendship usually establishes that.

“He might not even take the promotion, Lou.”

“Trust me, Z, he’s going to take it,” Louis sighs.

Zayn just smiles, a smile that is weighed down with pity, sympathy, and everything else. He doesn’t say anything, just turns to the bar and gathers a few pints, waits for Louis to do the same. They walk back to the table in silence, spreading smiles across their faces as they approached the booth.

Harry’s eyes had been on Ben, engaged in conversation across the table. He glances up briefly when Louis places a pint in front of him. He shoots him a quick smile in thanks, slides closer to Niall, and returns to his conversation. Louis slips in beside Harry, at the end of the booth and meets Zayn’s eyes over his glass.

Zayn just blinks, because what else can he do?

~

Louis’ cold fingers struggle as he fumbles to unlock his front door, egged on by the close sounds of Harry blowing warm breath over his hands. The door opens with a snick and they stumble in, Louis reaching for the light and Harry heading for the kitchen.

“I think I might stay here tonight,” Harry calls out, voice muffled through the walls. “Is that okay?”

Louis rounds the corner into the kitchen with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “Why?”

“Why what?” Harry asks, back to Louis as he prepares two cups of tea.

“Why do you want to stay?”

“Uh, because you’re my boyfriend? And that’s generally what boyfriends do. Plus, it’s cold and I’m exhausted, and still a little too drunk to catch the tube home safely,” Harry replies, as though it’s the most obvious choice to make.

What Louis means to say is, “Yeah, of course you can, babe.” What he actually says is, “So, what? Now you want to stay?”

Harry turns quickly, eyes wide in shock at Louis’ sharp words. “Huh?”

“Now you want to be close to me?”

“Lou, what are you on about?”

“Earlier tonight when I was clearly upset, you just kept on chatting with Ben and took no notice of me. In fact, all night, you’ve acted as though I wasn’t even there,” Louis snaps, pushing off of the wall and walking closer to Harry.

“You were upset?! When? Why? Why didn’t you say something?” Harry steps closer, lifting his hands to Louis’ cheeks.

Louis pushes him away. “And, what? Ruin your night as well as mine? Nah, I’ll pass.”

“Louis,” Harry sighs, dragging his hands down his tired face, “Where is this coming from?”

“Where is what coming from?”

“Why are you acting like such a twat?” Harry’s words cut deeper than Louis thought anything out of Harry’s mouth ever could.

Louis’ jaw drops. “What, so I’m a twat now?”

“No. You’re just acting like one. Why?”

“I’m not. It’s nothing, don’t even fucking worry,” Louis groans, all of the fire leaving his voice, his mind, and leaving him empty.

“No, fuck, Louis. Don’t do that. Is it the promotion?”

Louis doesn’t answer.

“It is, isn’t it? That’s what you’re doing. You’re trying to push me away, force distance between us so it won’t hurt you when I leave?” Harry says, voice climbing an octave and realisation dawning across his features.

“No,” Louis mumbles, shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Fuck!” Harry shouts, startling Louis. “Why the fuck are you always doing this? I haven’t even fucking taken the offer yet, Louis! Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to yourself, and to us? Nothing has happened, I don’t even know if I’m going to take it, Louis! Would you stop jumping to fucking conclusions every damn time I mention something?” Harry’s voice trembles.

Louis’ body trembles. “Are you fucking kidding me? You and I both know you’re going to take the fucking promotion, Harry. Why the fuck wouldn’t you?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you, perhaps? Because I know you aren’t ready to uproot everything you’ve built for yourself here, and I’m not quite selfish enough to ask you to,” Harry retorts, eyes burning and nostrils flaring.

“You’re going to though, aren’t you? You are, I know you will. I don’t mean you’re going to ask me,” Louis cuts Harry off before he could argue. “I mean, you’re going to take the promotion. And in taking it, you’re going to leave me, aren’t you?”

His voice has dropped, and taken his spirits and hope with it. “Louis, shit, would you just stop? I told you that I don’t kno-”

“Yes, you _do_. You _do_ know, Harry.”

“You’re impossible. I can’t even talk to you without you leaping to conclusions. I’m sorry that you think that I’m going to just cut ties with you and fuck off to Seattle. I’m sorry that I was even offered the promotion. I should have turned it away the moment it was mentioned,” Harry says, a range of emotions lacing his words and weighing down his beautiful eyes.

Louis’ heart clenches, ashamed that he had made Harry doubt his worthiness in the company. “No, H, don’t. I’m sorry I jus-”

“It’s fine, Louis. Whatever. I’m gonna go home, I think. I don’t feel so drunk anymore, the tube should be fine,” Harry mutters, averting his eyes.

What Louis means to say is, “No, I’m sorry for being a right twat, please don’t go.” What he actually says is, “Yeah, maybe that’s a good idea.”

Harry nods, eyes still glued to the floor, and shuffles past Louis. Louis follows him to the front door, whispering a quiet goodbye when Harry says nothing at all. When the door is locked behind Harry, and the flat silent save for Louis’ staggering breaths, Louis turns to the wall beside his coat rack and punches his first through the dry wall.

Louis thinks that the hole in the wall probably symbolises something bigger, something like the hole Harry will soon leave in his life, but he doesn’t really want to think about anything related to Harry. He doesn’t really want to think about anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter done and dusted, might be a while until the second one is up. I think I'm going to try update every sunday, but I'm terrible with schedules so I won't make promises. Also, the chapters are going to get longer and longer, I'm just warming up.  
> thank you Tash for beta'ing this one, i love u ♡

**Author's Note:**

> thank you infinitely to my betas (Brittany & Tash)  
> my twitter is @nostoulgic if you wanna chat (the l is actually a capital i bc I'm lame)


End file.
